Purest Destination

A beam of light, oh essence
of the purest destination,
rising, falling, dancing in
the deepness of the darkest
nights of indigo.

Do we really know the place
where we should go?
Is destiny no more than just
a passing whim of fantasy?

Shall we float then, through
these skies of altered atmosphere
pretending that we’re not affected
by each particle of air we breathe?

Blaming this, accusing that;
all things that merely wander,
just as we; until we take the time
to see it all within a momentary
glance of mere acceptance.

We are; they are; it is; we sing
in silence through the harmony
of the vastness of creation;
in love, the purest destination
of them all...

? Michaelette ?

Copyright© 2001 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .